Marty's Spring Break
This is a story about Marty's uneventful spring break. WARNING: Author likes to lie in summaries.
Chapter 1 — The Week Before Vacation
It was a cool, crisp April day, and Marty McFly was walking his girlfriend, Jennifer Parker, home. It was also the Friday two weeks before spring break, which brightened the mood somehow. The only problem was that the teachers had already assigned tests on the day after the break, and the students were grumbling about the injustice of it all. To compensate for their stroke of terrible luck, Marty and Jennifer planned to study together sometime during vacation.
Jennifer held up a finger when she sensed that her boyfriend was about to start another rant about the school. "Hold on a sec," she said. "I'm trying to remember something."
Thirty seconds later, she did. "I've got a doctor's appointment for an immunity shot next Monday, so I need you to turn an assignment to Mrs. Rose for me."
Mrs. Rose was Jennifer's English teacher; Marty had her for freshman year. He promised that he would remember.
As some sort of personal way of celebrating, Jennifer reached into her backpack, withdrew a bottle of gooey health drink, and took a hearty swing from it. She offered it to Marty, who drew away politely, shaking his head.
"How do you stand that stuff?" he asked incredulously as he watched her chug a lug the olive, lumpy tar. "If that doctor of yours does a health check on you as well, he'll find you the healthiest and bravest person alive."
She gave him a critical look. "It's not that bad."
"All super healthy foods are nasty. Like raw broccoli. I nearly died eating that stuff as a kid…" He gave her a playful nudge.
"Stop it," she said, grinning.
"You're gonna live forever, Jen," he teased. "You're gonna live till you're a hundred and five, and I'm gonna die young at forty."
"Ahh, the price junk food can pay!" She chuckled into the heavens.
"You're gonna outlive all our kids…"
Jennifer gave Marty a dreamy-eyed look. "Mmm…one day…" she murmured. The two leaned forward to kiss.
They had reached the Parker residence. Jennifer hurried inside and re-emerged with her school assignment. She handed it to Marty, who tucked it safely away in his backpack.
"Yeah, well, good luck on the tests," Jennifer told him, pecking him in the cheek. "See ya later." She made her way up the steps, waving good-bye.
When she closed the door, Marty turned around to make his way to the Browns' house.
--
The Browns were leaving for vacation next Sunday night, and Marty had promised to help Verne, who, perhaps taking after his teen idol, was a notorious procrastinator, pack.
The Browns were going to go to New Jersey to spend some time with Clara's parents. Doc wanted to postpone this time travel excursion to summer break, but Clara was homesick, and the kids wanted to see their old friends again. It was rather soon, the family realized, but kids did grow up rather quickly. However, in order to get to New Jersey and back to Hill Valley in a train that could only puncture the fourth dimension instantaneously, they had to leave town extra early. It was too dangerous to travel in the past, because the airborne train could frighten some animal, sending it fleeing from the spot where it was supposed to be shot by a hunter, starving the hunter and his descendants, and totally wrecking the space time continuum. Marty pointed out that meeting Clara's parents could change history as well, but Doc reasoned that in that case they would have a good idea when and where the change in history occurred, rather than scrutinizing their entire route from California to New Jersey to pinpoint the disturbance. To take his kids out from school early, Doc drew up a note that said that their aunt Cecelia Klein had passed away recently, and that they had to attend her funeral.
Cecelia Klein. Klein was the word Marty honed in on. Was she the mother of the young Calvin Klein, the boy who helped George and Lorraine fall in love and marry?
After a brief discussion with Doc, Marty found that his hypothesis was correct. Sometime during the 1960's, Lorraine saw Doc in a grocery store and asked how his nephew Calvin was doing. Doc ad-libbed the vague story of how Calvin had moved back to Canada with his mother, making up the name Cecelia Klein on the spot. Cecelia, as imaginary family trees went, was Doc's older sister. However, the two were not close due to divergent interests.
Doc went on to add that he had already used the DeLorean to scout the route that they were going to take from Hill Valley to New Jersey, and that they were all well prepared for their excursion through time.
Marty was glad that he wasn't going anywhere for spring break.
Verne had hardly packed at all, so he and Marty spent a couple of hours filling the suitcase with clothes, games, and homework. In the meantime, the two shared the most interesting conversation, which follows.
"Hey Marty. When you have kids, can I marry your daughter?" Verne asked.
Marty stopped short. "I dunno about that. I'd have to ask her. But it may take a while, considering that she hasn't been born yet…"
"I bet she's really cute," the kid continued, with a faraway look in his eyes. "She'll be just as nice as you are, too. She can cook all my meals…"
A small smile spread across Marty's face. "How old are you?"
Verne blinked. "Six."
"Right. And I won't have kids for fifteen years or so," Marty pointed out.
The kid gave him a critical look. "So?"
"Well, in fifteen years, how old will you be?"
Verne gagged. "What?! No! That's not fair! You know I can't add well!" He stamped his foot angrily. "Marty!" he whined.
The teen rolled his eyes. He grabbed the kid's shoulders, ordering him to calm down. The six-year-old, fuming, obeyed reluctantly.
"Six plus fifteen is twenty-one," said Marty matter-of-factly. "So when I have kids, you'll be twenty-one years old."
"And?" Verne wanted to know impatiently.
"And? And you'll be too old for her," Marty concluded. "'Cause when my daughter is one, you'll be…what? Twenty-two?"
The kid bristled. "So?" he demanded. "I don't care! I still want to marry her."
Marty gave up. "All right. Do what you want."
The child brightened. "So does that mean I can?"
The teen sighed. "You'll just have to ask her yourself," he said tiredly.
Verne pouted. "I bet she'll say yes. 'Cause I'm so nice! I'll be a good husband! There's no way she'll say no." He grinned proudly.
Marty rubbed his forehead, exasperated.
Twenty minutes later, the pair was dusting their hands off proudly. Verne marched away to proclaim to his father how he did all his packing by himself, while Marty dragged himself wearily behind. Doc gave Marty an appreciative smile, which was returned with a weak thumbs up. He was about say something when somebody clamored down the stairs.
"Hi Marty," Jules said, hanging on the rail.
"Hey, sport." Marty nodded to him.
"Excuse me." Doc brushed the teen aside and went on his way.
"What's up?" Marty asked Jules.
Jules bit his lip. "You're gonna take care of my pets while we're gone, right?"
The teen took a step forward. "Yeah. Mind if I go to your room and see what you've got?"
"I've got a mouse and a fish," the kid replied, starting up the stairs. He glanced behind him to make sure that Marty was following him. "Andy and Peter."
He eased open the door to his room. Jules strode inside, while Marty tiptoed behind him. There wasn't a lot of space with two people, a large bed, a bookself, a fishbowl on a table, a mouse cage, and a mountain of pet supplies in one room.
The kid introduced Marty to Andy the mouse and Peter the goldfish. He went on to explain how to clean and feed them properly. Andy didn't like cheese, and Peter didn't like too much fish food. And under no circumstances should Andy be let of his cage! Marty joked that Peter shouldn't be let out of his bowl either, but Jules only gave him a bewildered look.
The kid gazed at the mouse, which was clawing at the bars of its cage. "I like to clean the cage and the bowl every day, but you don't have to. You don't have to feed Einstein, but I think Dad wants you to walk him once in a while."
Marty got on his knees and took a closer look at the circling goldfish. It gave him a wide-eyed look and turned its tail to him.
"I want to get a bird," Jules said absentmindedly. "But there's no room, and Mom won't let me. She says I've got too many animals already."
"Yeah…" the teenager agreed absently. He looked at the kid and gave him a small smile.
"Are you excited to meet your grandparents for the first time?" he asked conversationally. Jules shrugged.
Marty tried a different question. "How's it like to get out of school a week early?"
"It's okay," the boy said lamely.
Further questions were answered with shrugs and vague noises. Finally, Marty glanced at his watch and realized that had to go. Jules waved goodbye as Marty exited the room and headed down the stairs.
--
It was Monday. Marty was shouldering his way through the crowded halls; his eyes focused on the teacher's lounge. He struggled through the human storm and eventually made it to the door…only to find that it was locked. Cursing his luck, Marty threaded his way to the ever so far away parking lot.
He neatly skipped around the exiting cars, glancing left and right. Students and staff members alike were in a hurry to get home and do some work/get some sleep/study/grade papers. He spotted the top of Mrs. Rose's brown curly hair over her blue Sedan. He dashed forward, thinking that she was unlocking the door. But she didn't seem to be facing the right way…
In the very first day of Marty's freshman English class, Mrs. Rose launched into a long story about how she was adopted many times during her life, living most of it in Sacramento, and how she took up smoking, drinking, and doing drugs to get away from the pain of feeling unwanted. She eventually turned herself around, but never gave up her habit of smoking. Though it was against the rules to smoke on high school grounds, more than once students caught her hiding out somewhere sneaking in the illegal cigarette.
Marty had a sneaking suspicion that she was doing just that. He was behind her now. She wasn't smoking; she was talking to another student. Marty was waiting patiently behind the two, when the student paused and glanced past her. His and Marty's eyes locked.
The two teens froze.
"Marty…?" Mrs. Rose began and started to glance behind her. But Marty was already up and running. The student brushed past her, muttering a hurried apology.
Marty's heart raced as he broke school records for dashing across the parking lot, into the street, and off school grounds. He pressed himself against the shady wall of a large condo, gasping heavily. Angry curse words paraded through his mind.
It took him a good thirty seconds to gather himself together. He took a slow, deep breath, adjusted his collar, wiped the sweat off his brow, and mussed up his hair. He then took a confident, but casual, step away from the condo and around the corner, pasting a neutral expression on his face.
And stopped.
"The hell?" he muttered, cautiously stepping around the DeLorean. He couldn't help circling it and surveying the damage. One side of it—the right side, precisely—was smashed, as if it had collided with something narrow, or had just clipped it. The headlight and side door were crumpled; the entire car seemed to lean to one side. The spider web cracks in the window made it impossible to look inside the car from that side.
"Looks pretty bad, huh?"
Marty jumped, heart racing. The student eyed him wearily.
"You're not going to run off again, are you?" he asked. "Because I'm…I'm beat. Seriously." He wiped his forehead and exhaled loudly.
Marty made a series of frustrated gestures.
"You! You!" He was indignant. "People might see! Get the hell out of here!"
The teen, unfazed, instead said, "You want to know what's going on?"
Marty glared at him for a few moments, his eyes briefly flickering from him to his fellow classmates, who continued to stream from the high school into the streets. The student didn't budge, giving him an intense look. Their silent showdown only lasted a few seconds; the student finally won when Marty's shot out nerves forced him to nod.
The student stepped forward and unlatched the gull wing door. Marty hopped back to avoid getting hit.
"Hop in," said the second Marty.
LittleMana: Hello, all! That's the end of Chapter 1! I would like to thank Flaming Trails for partially inspiring this fic--over a year ago. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been procrastinating too much. I'm not actually done, you know, but if you guys review or PM me enough, I might finish the last three chapters in a semi-timely manner. In the mean time, hope you all like!